


Breaking Free

by Tis_I_A_Small_Weirdo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Eproctophilia, F/M, Fart, Farting, Flatulence, Maledom, fartfic, fartingfetish, flatulencefetish, gassyboy, maledomination, malefartfetish, malefarting, malefarts, maleflatulence, malegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 07:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tis_I_A_Small_Weirdo/pseuds/Tis_I_A_Small_Weirdo
Summary: Sigel is being hunted by human and orc alike. With an unlikely ally at his side, he runs for the hills with her.





	Breaking Free

Sigel was thankful for his dark vision more than ever in the moment. His heart pounding in his pointed ears, legs aching so much that he knew if he stopped to rest for even a moment they’d give out like crumbling pillars. His lungs ached equally as much, begging for more air but the hand he kept over his mouth to keep his breathing as quiet as possible prevented that, or else the baying dogs off in the distance may hear. With two parties nipping at his heels, the fact he didn’t need to conjure a light to see in the dark gave him an advantage, and he was grateful for every inch he could get.

Though he feared his following companion, his savior ironically, could ruin that.

She had not complained about the darkness so far, a fact he was grateful for. Something that lead him to believe the woman was not human. Large and bulky, the woman dressed head to toe in thick iron armor. Good for fighting, terrible for running from enemies that wanted nothing more than to hang them both. The armor clinked and clanked, not overly loud but enough to make Sigel cringe at every loud bump she made in the night. At least it wasn’t impeding her speed at all. She kept up with the orc quite easily, always a few feet behind.

There was also that damn sword she carried. A blade made out of silver with holes in it that cause it to literally sing as it slashed through the air, like the wind had suddenly gained a harmonic voice. She refused to sheath it despite his insistent requests, so as they ran a single soft whistle accompanied them. It scared him to death, honestly. Thinking, no, knowing this one little thing could get them caught yet she refused! If the orcs or humans didn’t catch him with their dogs or magic, he knew this would.

Sigel couldn’t believe his life. Two days ago he was trapped in his own society, despised for being a magic user but too useful to cast out as such. One day ago he was the lone prisoner of a failed orc siege of a human fort, this lone paladin having gone toe to toe with him in battle. And now, he was running from both, an escaped prisoner to the humans and a traitor to the orcs. One part of him found it thrilling to be free, another part of him wishes he was dead, a majority of him was scared shitless.

Suddenly the whistling stopped. He felt two thick leather gloves grab onto his and pull him back! He bit his tongue to keep from making a sound as the woman dragged him into the bushes, hiding them in the shadows. He tried to fight her off, but found his strength was barely not enough. Typical, of the more magic inclined of himself but it sent his heart racing! This bitch is going to get them both killed!

“What are you-“ his hushed whisper was silenced by a hand over his mouth. She practically jammed her fingers into his maw to silence him. Before he could bite down his heart froze, hearing the rushing of feet come near. His hands tightened their hold on her arm, fingers pulsing with arcane magic in panic.

Through the leaves and shadows he could see humans, all wearing the same red and gold talberds and chainmail. About 6 of them, three holding back massive, rabid dogs that bayed and howled every which direction and the other three held lamps that illuminated the area, making streaks of golden beams shine onto them. Sigel was grateful the two of them were covered in mud and muck, knowing otherwise the glimmer of his golden jewelry and the paladins armor would have given them away in a second. As a dog approached, his breath was bated as it growled and began to bark, yowling at the two of them. Sigel’s knees shook and shivered, his tears welling as a knight also go close. Quickly thinking, starting into the dog’s rabid eyes, he mumbled under his breath and focused his concentration. Though the spell was quiet and muffled, Sigel could feel it as he conjured a small illusion, an injured rabbit that rushed out from the underbrush!

“Woah! Heel, stupid mutt!” The knight cussed as the animal snapped the other way on his leash. Sigel couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh as the beast fell for his illusion. But quickly that fear returned, hearing the beast yelp as the kicked it. Falling back into line, the guards marched forward, Sigel unable to keep his eye off them, ears twitching as the guards chatted as they walked.

“Who guessed a damn orc could run so fast! A coward to his kind, he is!”

“That damn merc too! Orc-loving bitch is gonna hang for going against Lord Fried!”

“Hang? Bitch will beg for that fate when he’s done with her. The last whore that pissed him off is still bleeding from her cunt in the dungeon.”

“Maybe Lord Fried will let us have a turn with her. I’d love to make that ‘too strong and mighty for you’ merc scream!”

Their guaffs and shouts eventually faded into the night. As soon as the coast was clear the woman let go of him, making Sigel fall to his hands and knees. He gasped for breath after breath, legs screaming in pain as he finally caught a rest. ‘That was too close.’ He thought. ‘I need to be more careful.’ Sweat soaked through his robes, making the mud and shit he was covered in stick to to him even further. He’d hate it were it not be one of the reasons he was even alive right now.

Suddenly, a leather bound pouch was put in front of his vision.

“Drink this.” The paladin instructed, voice melodic and soft. Quite the contrast to her heavy armor and massive frame. “You need to keep your strength up. I know it’s hard after having been in the dungeon, but it’s only a little farther, okay?”

Sigel didn’t even respond. He just greedily took a hold of the waterskin and began chugging. Not even caring as it dribbled over his tusks and down his chin. The water, while warm, was more than enough. His dry mouth and throat felt better than ever and the slightest bit of strength finally returned to him. Emptying their last of the water reserves (a fact he’d let himself feel guilty about later) he looked to her, seeing she was staring at the mountain in the distance. “Once we past the peak we’ll be home free, just a bit farther.”

‘Right,’ Sigel thought grimly as his savior reassured him. ‘She’s being hunted too.’

“Let’s hurry then.” he moved to get up, but Sigel felt her place hand on his shoulder that held him down. “What?”

“Wait, a distraction.”

“What?”

As he asked that, Sigel’s ears suddenly picked up the sound of howling wolves, and then combat. An orange glow, nearly hidden by the trees drew his eyes in. The sound of metal against leather and the primal combat chants was unmistakable to him. Orcs. With the shouts of humans and screams of orcs filling the night air, it didn’t take a genius to know the two hunting parties had found each other, rather than their targets.

“Now.” Sigel was left behind as the paladin rushed from the bushes!

“W-Wait!” Sigel whisper-shouted, charging after the woman! Thankfully, her size made following her an easy task, the only difficult thing being his aching body and robes that caught on every which branch.

Again she pulled out her blade, the whistle and silver glint unmistakeable. As they ran he could hear mockers pick up the shrill note, and echoed it back. Were it not something he feared could be tracked, he’d find it almost beautiful, as living deep underground oft left him aching for the beauty of a bird’s wail.

Slowly but surely, they waded through mud and rivers. Fallen trees and massive stone outcropping that he had trouble climbing became easy with her pushing and pulling him up. Whenever a hunting party of either humans or orcs got too close, a quick spell that conjured illusions saved their hides more than once. They risked crossing rivers to throw the dogs off their sent, rolled in mud and (Sigel shuddered at the thought still) animal dropping to camouflage themselves further. Every step was a step towards progress, and as the mountain began to loom Sigel felt ever more hopeful he would live to see the next morning.

On the final stretch to the mountain pass Sigel ran ahead of the paladin, his gaze turned upwards to mountain top shaded against the starry. He finally felt relief welling in his gut, his legs trembling as he picked up the pace!

Then he fell to his knee, his legs giving out to his horror. Sigel couldn’t stop tears welling in his eyes as suddenly his stomach churned to life, the lack of non-rotted food and only water making it feel as though a hot, vibrating dagger was being twisted into his gut. He dug his tusks into his skin, holding back pathetic whimpers as he felt the woman kneel down next to him and start rubbing his back.

“Are you okay? Do you need to rest?” She asked.

“J-Just my stomach. The food from the prison.” He grumbled. “Let’s keep going.”

As he moved to get up, Sigel stopped mid-crouch as from his behind a long and spluttering ‘prrrrrffffft’ slipped out, making his robe flutter a bit, to his embarrassment. He was grateful for the mud on his face to hide his blush, and his companions helmet to keep from seeing her expression. He coughed, before continuing, “L-Let’s-“

From the woods, the cracks of tree branches and deep humbling voices made both refugees freeze. Without much thought, Sigel threw himself into a nearby bush! The paladin follow, and both laid close to the ground, watching as disgusting, dirt covered green feet came into view. Orcs, a lot of them. Sigel’s stomach dropped even further into a pit, fingers shaking as they dug into the soft soil.

“I swore I heard something.” One grumbled.

“You hear a lot of things!”

“Shut it! It had to be a voice. And it was too uppity to be a human, had to be that traitor!”

“Quite! We can’t let them know we are near!”

“Let them know! That coward knows why we hunt him! Turning us over to the humans, revealing our camps and plans! He’ll pay!”

Sigel clenched his eyes shut, unable to deny those words. It cut to hear their rage, to know what his did do, but also know what they did to him. He felt a firm hand on his back. That of the paladin. He looked to them, and though the helmet hid their face, the gesture conveyed enough kindness to let its meaning shine though. Taking the shallowest of breaths, Sigel held his as the orcs milled about in the area.

Unfortunately though, giving his body a moment to rest was a double edged sword. Sigel could feel his stomach, filled with aches and pains, swishing and cramping from a lack of food and only water. He couldn’t help it, letting out a quick puff of a fart that made both him and the paladin look at each other in horror.

“Can’t you not right now?!” She whispered so quiet it may as well have been silent.

“No! Have you ever successfully held back a fart?!”

“Yes!”

“W-Well, orcs are different, all right?!” His face was burning hot, but quickly became ice cold when a quick bubbly burst escaped his ass. They both could see from the underbush an orc look in their direction, staring down at both of them at one point, before resuming his trodding search just across the way.

“We need to stifle the sound at least.” The paladin said and seemed to be shifting, being careful as to not let a single metal plate clink against another.

“Do you have any idea on how cuz I sure don’t!” He spat out, unable to keep from panicking. He was so close, THEY were so close! He couldn’t blow it for the both of them like this!

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh-?”

Sigel had to grit his teeth to the point they ached to keep from shouting. The paladin’s hands firmly grabbed his buttocks and spread them apart after she pushed his robes up, making him look over his shoulder just in time to see the paladin stick her face, helmet removed, into his backside. Sigel couldn’t help but let out a shiver as he felt her nose rub against his anus, subconsciously flexing it. He’d been running for hours, she knew that. He could feel his swampy asscrack start molding to her face, sweaty skin chafing against her. The cell he had been kept him also provided him with no toilet paper and the only thing between his asshole and her nose was a thin layer of boxers.

“What-“ Before he could say anything a quick burp of a fart escaped his ass, and he realized with horror what she was doing. Whether done out of stupidity or genius, she was using her head muffle the sound and smell. As his stomach burned and made it clear this indigestion wasn’t going to pass quickly, he apologized to the paladin mentally and twitched his backdoor a bit.

The first round of gas was a tortuous experience. He felt the heat trapped between his cheeks coat them in sweat, which rubbed and drenched the paladin’s face. He could feel her fingers dig harshly into his thighs, her gloves preventing her nails from drawing blood. Sigel had to admire her constitution, it would take a lot for anyone to willingly stick their face in an orcs ass. But desperate times…

Pppppphhhhhhhrrrrrbt!

...called for even more desperate measures.

He could smell his own musk as it wafted through the cracks between the paladin’s face, her hair blown back by his windy butt. It smelled of pure sewage, not far off from what they had forced down his gullet in that prison. A particularly wet fart caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but moan softly in relief, stomach slowly feeling less and less cramped. He shifted a bit, and the paladin moved with him. His blush only darkened as she did this, as she practically wiped her face on his ass. He gulped hard, trying to stay clear minded but a steadily growing throb in his nethers made that difficult.

“You smell something?”

That killed it.

“Smells like you passing wind!”

“Shut up! Am serious!”

Sigel looked behind him and could see the paladin raised her face from his ass, stink practically hanging off it as she panted and dripped sweat. Panicking he reached back and wrapped his fingers into her locks and slammed her head back down into his rear! She struggled but made no sounds, clawing at his legs and back as he practically smothered her back down into his ass! He shivered again as slammed her nose half-way into his ring of flesh, finding the feeling far too pleasurable despite the life and death situation here.

“If I can smell it,” He whispered out, the eggy-stench of his own gas permeating the air. “Then you aren’t doing your job.”

With this bubbly farts exploded from his rear, and Sigel realized with shock she began huffing them up, taking in every bit of sound and stink he made. With a gulp, keeping his feelings and thoughts in check, he reached back and grabbed hold of his ample cheeks and spread them, wanting to at least give her some help and breathing room. For 10 minutes any noxious fumes that came from his ass was greedily huffed up by this knight, willing to take humiliation over death. She squirmed, but stayed in place, a feat that instantly earned Sigel’s respect as a weak stomached-orc himself. It went on for 10 minutes, orcs circling around them and none the wiser.

As a long SBD vibrated against her, Sigel finally heard the orcs walking away. He waited with bated breath, counting. One minute. Two minutes. Three and Four. ‘Five.’ He thought with relief and instantly relaxed. As he did this the final bubbles of flatulence escaped his ass. He could feel fart after fart, all wet and grimy, go right into the nostril of the paladin as she breath it all in. What would have been a loud and orchestral fart was reduced to silence as the woman took it all on, her face firmly wedged into his crack as her hand gripped also desperately into his cheeks, like she was begging for more. Finally, the gusts from his rear died down and a final bitter poot was blown into his saviors face as she pulled away. He couldn’t see too well in the underbrush, but saw at least she was dripping with sweat and stink for sure.

“I’ll apologize more properly later,” Sigel said as he stood up and watched the knight put on her helmet before joining him. “But for now we need to run.”

“Agreed.” The paladin said. And they both ran.

It took another hour for them to reach the mountain but when they did, Sigel was practically in tears. His feet were bleeding, his head pounding and heart racing, but they made it. His companion was in little better shape, but clearly still had the strength, the will to live and run. Looking up the mountain and seeing no trees or bushes to hide them, he turned to his companion.

“I’ve been loose and willing on this but it has to be addressed now. Put away the sword completely.” He began, before adding as he felt her sharp gaze fall on him. “There’s no foliage or anything like that ahead, it’s just going to be a dead give away. Please.”

“... Alright.” She said after a moment of silence.

“Thank goodness.” He sighed in relief.

“But you have to take my hand,”

“Eh?” His eyes flew open, and what Sigel saw stole his breath breath away.

The paladin’s helmet was strapped to her belt now, allowing him to see her face. She was pretty by human standards, but what shocked him were her eyes. Her eyes themselves were void of any pupil or iris in this night light, looking rough and scarred over, healed but damaged from long ago. The skin around her eyes as equally scared and pale, ripped and torn and twisted in the past but now smooth, but baring that struggle of healing. The way those scars twisted and turned was what make Sigel’s heart drop. The torture method of orcish design was far too recognizable.

“And be my eyes.” She finished, holding out her hand.

Sigel hesitates for not a second, taking her hand and rushing off with her into the night.

…

“I see…” Sigel mumbles to himself, careful not to get crumbs all over himself as he picked through the platter of breads and cheese and dried fruits that laid by his side, book resting on his lap. It was mid-day, but with the curtains closed, Sigel and his companion were treating it like night. They had arrived at the village at dawn (simply because it took him a few tries with his disguise self spell) and while she got an inn room for the two of them, Sigel sold all his possessions that would connect him to his old orc tribe, cut his hair so he no longer dawned a long ponytail but a handsome undercut, and now was the proud owner of a nice set of silken wizards robes and magic books. All he kept was the books he stole from the raid on the keep, and those that were given to him by his master Zanta. Those he considered too valuable to ever let go.

Sigel felt like a new man, and was happy to embrace it. It made sense that a simple change of clothes and a shower could make any man feel like a million gold after he spent two nights as a criminal. He was also thankful for his savior, the paladin. In the bathroom he could hear her showering, her freshly polished silver armor and blade laid to the side with her own new clean clothes. Once they reached the city she could use her sword to navigate again and he found she moved flawlessly with it. It was likely some kind of magic-echolocation she used to see without her sight.

Closing his book and gingerly setting it aside as his thoughts began to wander, he preoccupied himself with picking out nuts and berries from the platter laid next to him. Until the sound of flowing water ceased from the bathroom, and moments later the paladin came out.

She wore only her underwear like him, using a towel to dry her short black locks, a quick task as she had a undercut like him. Sigel could see now her body rivaled that of a few orc woman, she was covered in muscles and scars little fat seen on her form. She was more muscular than him at least, for while he still had his muscles his magic training did lead him to getting soft looking. Around her neck sat a golden chain and from it, lying perfectly between her breasts was a ruby charm in the shape of a clover.

“Feeling better?” She asked as she sat on the bed across from his.

“Much.” As he tossed her an apple. She caught it easily.

“How did you do that without your sword?” He asked, noting the sheathed blade sat many feet away. In response, she held up the necklace.

“It’s magic and I’m attuned to it. It makes sounds and I use them to hear where everything else is. I used to just use the sword but people aren’t comforted by the sight of someone with a blade out 24/7 so…” she shrugged as she trailed off and began feverishly feasting on the apple. Sigel was almost sure she was going to eat the core and all!

“What’s your name?” He eventually asked, still lounging casually on his bed as he tossed her a banana as well.

“Laurel. You?” She got out between muffled cheekfuls.

“Sigel,” He started, before he allowed his tone to get serious. “Why did you help me?”

Laurel stopped eating, and tossed away the banana peel.

“You turned over your tribe’s locations and plans in exchange to be taught magic and made a servant, correct?”

Sigel’s mouth went dry as he recalled that deal, and how south it went despite them eventually agreeing to it. “Yes, but-“

“They were going to kill you anyways.” Laurel interrupted him. The room filled with a heavy silence. Sigel wanted to say she was lying, but deep in his gut, he knew. He knew everything he had done in that deal was for naught. “I may be a merc, but I won’t stand by needless slaughter, especially when you were promised at least some form of freedom.”

“So you risked your life for me?” Sigel asked sharply. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m an orc. And if those eyes of yours have anything to tell me, you shouldn’t be on the best terms with them, us.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” Laurel asked, and though she had no gaze Sigel could still feel her staring at him. The room filled with a thick and uncomfortable silence. When Sigel couldn’t muster a response, she continued. “I can’t change my past, but I can change my future and affect others. I may fight for money, but I am no blind sheep.”

“A nice sentiment, foolishly, but admirable.” Sigel said. Before silence could brew again, he asked “Where will you go now?”

“The kingdom of Relle. Can’t stay here, for sure, that noble wants me dead. You?”

“... I don’t know.” Sigel admitted, his freedom high finally coming down as he realized he certainly can’t stay here. “I want to pursue magic and education but…”

“You can come with me.” Sigel whipped his head up to look into Laurel’s eyes, and found only genuine honesty within. “I can help you look for those things, and if we can’t find them, well, I think your magic would make you a great merc.”

“You don’t know anything about me, yet you’re willing to travel together?” He asked in horror. “You are far too trusting.”

He only got a shrug in response, reaching up to fix her brown hair that was almost carelessly shoved into an updo. “I mean I’ve seen you cry five times in the past 48 hours and you farted all over me, I say that's as good a bonding experience as any.”

“Aside from that!” He exclaimed, happy she couldn’t see his blush, “What reason would I have to go with you?”

A small leather satchel was flung his way. Confused, Sigel opened it and felt his mouth go dry. There was more gold in here than he had seen in his life. He looked to Laurel in shock as she said, “That’s his much I got for just helping a noble guard his caravan.”

“I’ll…” Sigel looked back and forth between his books, the gold, and Laurel. He gulped. “I’ll consider it.”

…

It was a foggy early morning and Sigel wore a hood to hide his orcish features, careful of the guards as he held his own and Laurel’s packs over his shoulder. Across the dock Laurel was talking with a briney old sailor, clutching a bag of gold. He watched carefully until finally, the man took the gold and walked away, and Laurel turned to wave him over. Rushing past guards that have him no mind, he joined his now partner on the gangplank.

“Ready to start your journey?” Laurel asked. As they reached the deck, Sigel was able to look out to the horizon, seeing far beyond, much farther than that little grimey cave he had grown in his whole life ever allowed him to, seeing, really drinking in the sunrise for the very first time in his life.

“Ready as ever.” He responded, unable to take his eyes off whatever could like at the edge of the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy what you read, please check out my [Tumblr](https://asmallweirdo.tumblr.com/) and [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/asmallweirdo) too!


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